Getting My "House" In Order

I had a conversation with my brother-in-law on a recent trip to visit my sister and him...well, I had many thought provoking ones, but one in particular sort of stays with me. As if it weren't enough to try and comprehend the passing of our daughter, their niece, on the heels of the loss cancer invaded again. This time in the form of multiple myeloma, a blood cancer that has taken him and the family on a ride of its own. Rather young by medical standards, he has already endured months of treatments, side effects, a stem cell transplant, and more. The MORE is what one doesn't SEE when loved ones "live" through cancer. It need not be described for there are no words, at least not this soon. You really cannot do any of it justice anyway, the sleepless nights, the visits to the bathroom, the pains, the alarm set to turn our loved ones over because they can no longer do that on their own, the escorting to and from the places that used to be private, the deterioration of a body, the ripping of a soul. You just cannot imagine. Until my father I never could. Then my daughter. Now, Michael. And no matter what the prognosis is, "living" with cancer takes parts of us that we never even knew existed. We are always waiting, for this blood test, this test result, wondering about this pain, or that, curious as to whether as we sit and breathe if cancer is taking hold. It's a complex journey.

As Michael and I talked about the many who have come into our life with their own diagnosis and unique journey, he was sharing about another gentleman in town with a raging cancer. He spoke to someone else who was suggesting this person "get their house in order". Immediately, when hearing this story, I moved, in my mind, from the literal sense to the spirit of the soul. But I would do that, that is where I am now. And that is where I have been since I have buried my child. Sure, I live in the literal sense as well, society demands it, our world expects it. But for me, the journey is much deeper and I was reminded of how all my healing thus far has been to get my own "house" in order. If I meant in the literal sense, I know one thing for sure, it would never happen. I have a pantry waiting for some major organization and a basement filled with items that need to be removed. I have a linen closet that needs cleaning out and I have tables that need to be cleaned since they have not seen this side of a dust cloth since before Christmas! I need to make sure our living will is brought up to date and I need to pay bills! All this to say, it's always a work in progress and will NEVER be in order.

This healing that has occurred over the past three years, and that continues to evolve, is how I am getting my "house" in order. I am not letting the other things go unattended, nor am I not living in the real world, but I am doing it my way. I have learned through experiences in my life and in the death of my youngest daughter that our bodies are our temples and that our spiritual essence manifests through a physical body. Our "home" is our soul, and all our energy follows thought. Where we place our thoughts, that is where energy will begin to manifest. Through pain and loss, and what I call the constant companion and shadow of grief, I must dwell upon the blessings and potentials that are possible within my life. I have always determined that I must look at what I DO have, rather than look at the limitations. As I learn to do so, I find that I do not have to be at the mercy of what life circumstances, or of my body, dictate. I have found that to get my "house" in order, I must walk the spiritual walk, fill my mind and soul with as much light, hope and energy that I can so that the healing takes place. I cannot say it is easy, simple or without sheer and utter pain. It brings me to my knees, this job of getting my "house" in order. I have to read, study, journal, contemplate, stay inspired by scripture and stories of men and women who have gone before me. I must find peace and fulfillment in my life, as it is, not as it was, not as it will be, but where it is now. I must make time for the things that matter, and still adapt to the surroundings for the bills keep coming, the groceries need to be bought, the house needs to be tended and life keeps on. Just because there are days I wish it weren't so, the world doesn't stop turning for me. I get to be the master of my day and my thoughts. Some would say that might be easy, I am retired, I have time, I have resources, I have the desire. And I agree, but, for me, and I can only speak for me, I must take what is handed and use the time I have to make it count.

Time is an interesting concept...at some point we all wake up and recognize we are terminal. It might be when we hear the diagnosis of cancer. It might be when we lose so deeply that we never, ever take another day for granted. It might be when we get older and we realize we have lived more than half of our lives. It might be the day we hold a funeral for our daughter and the walls of the house grow silent, no more to hear the vitality of youth, to see her mature and perhaps marry or have children. But there comes a time when we know we must stop and smell the roses, as they say, savor, breathe because we can, learn, grow, count our blessings, and yes, get our "house" in order. My work will never be done in the shelter of a house, but in my spirit, I pray that when God is ready, so may I be, my "house" in order to be received with open arms. And of course, I pray that is a long time from now. But ready or not, the time will come, and I prefer to be ready.

Thank you, Michael, for the wonderful "talks", perspectives and love as we both take another step in this thing called life.